


The Ground Floor

by Asher_Ephraim



Series: Floors [2]
Category: Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Anal Fingering, Anal Plug, Anal Sex, Barebacking, Ben Solo Needs A Hug, Come Shot, Established Relationship, Hotel Sex, Jealousy, M/M, Mention thereof, Open Relationships, POV Ben Solo, Porn with Feelings, Rough Oral Sex, Sex Tapes, Size Difference, Unrequited, but not unconsummated
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-17
Updated: 2019-01-17
Packaged: 2019-10-11 00:09:05
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,890
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17436116
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Asher_Ephraim/pseuds/Asher_Ephraim
Summary: Dopheld's boyfriend, Armitage, is away for the weekend. With Hux's approval--encouragement, more like--Dopheld invites Ben to spend a night with him in a hotel room. It's all Ben has been hoping for. Almost.





	The Ground Floor

“Hey,” Dopheld says to Ben in the cafeteria, sidling up beside him at the soup and salad bar.

Ben’s stomach flips, and he can’t tell if the sensation is more pleasant or painful. It’s been over two months (sixty-four days, to be specific) since the party and today is the first time Dopheld has interacted with him since. “Hi. How’ve you been?” He thinks it comes off as coolly restrained, but he could be wrong. He often is about these things.

“Quite well, and you?” Dopheld asks politely, smiling up at him as he uses a pair of tongs to add black olives to the pile of mixed greens on his plate.

Ben has trouble believing that this is the same person who’d insisted not only on Ben going bare but finishing inside him. “I’m fine. How’s Hux?”

Dopheld rolls his eyes and snorts lightly—and now Ben sees it, sees the boy who had deep-throated his dick. “Do you care?”

 _I care whether you_ _’re still together,_ Ben thinks, but simply shrugs.

Continuing to add items to his salad, Dopheld answers, “He’s also well. But he’s going home to Dublin this weekend and I was thinking you and I might be able to schedule something together.”

“Oh?” Ben asks, sounding fully as startled as he is. He stares at Dopheld’s plate: spinach, arugula, olives, broccoli, bean sprouts, sunflower seeds. In comparison, his salad is aggressively unhealthy. Ben suddenly feels ashamed of the ranch dressing he used to drench his greens. That on top of the shredded cheddar cheese and crumbled bacon.

“You know, so we could take our time,” Dopheld continues, unrelentingly adding to Ben’s elevated blood pressure. “Just us, without interruptions. What do you say?”

He shouldn’t—he doesn’t want to become further involved with this boy who loves someone else—but after one glance at Dopheld’s hopeful smile, he nods. “I’d like that.”

“I can rent a room. No roommates to consider, and we won’t have to keep the noise down.” He stands on tiptoes to whisper into the taller boy’s ear, “I’d like to see if you can make me scream.” With a wicked smile, he elaborates, “Because sometimes I scream when I’m being ploughed.”

 _Oh, fuck._ Ben’s throat is suddenly dry, his pants too tight. He nods again.

“One condition, though.” Dopheld reaches into the back pocket of his jeans—and of course Ben leans back to check out his ass. Even though he knows it’s cute. Knows exactly what it looks like with no pants on, how it feels gripped in his hands. Anyway, Dopheld is removing his phone.

“Yes?” Ben is expecting Dopheld to insist on protection this time, and is fully prepared to agree. It’s only reasonable.

“We record it.”

He was most certainly _not_ imagining this requirement. “What?”

Dopheld shrugs casually and explains, “Hux wants to watch.”

Ben almost retorts, _Then why don_ _’t we reschedule so he can come along?_ But knowing what he does about these two, they’d likely take him up on the invitation. “Okay,” he agrees.

“Great. So give me your number and I’ll text you mine.”

 

 

_Dopheld: When are you out on Friday?_

_Ben: Last class ends at 1:30 pm_

_Dopheld: Unless you’d rather do Saturday. Either works for me._

His fingertips tingle. He wants to answer: “Anytime. Anywhere. Just tell me and I’ll rush over.” Instead, he types “Either is fine, but I’d prefer Friday.” Because it’s sooner. Maybe things will go so well that Dopheld will want to spend Saturday night together as well. He knows he’s fantasising.

_Dopheld: So, I’m cheap. There’s a two-star hotel on Rhodes for 70 quid a night. It’s not much but it’s clean._

Ben restrains himself from asking what brought Dopheld there previously. He’s sure it was Hux. They probably drank and fucked all night, then showered together in the morning and left housekeeping to contend with the soiled sheets. Ben tries to pretend he isn’t jealous.

_Ben: Works for me._

_Dopheld: Check in is at 1600. Any time after that is cool._

_Ben: Um, I’d like a bit later. Can I take you to dinner first?_

_Dopheld: Oh, Ben, you know you don’t need to do that._

_Ben: But I’d like to._

_Dopheld: As I said, I’m cheap. I’ll accept food._

_Ben: Meet you in front of Main at 7:30?_

_Dopheld: See you then._

 

 

“Where are you taking me?” Dopheld asks on Friday, slipping his arm through the crook of Ben’s elbow like it belongs there. Ben reminds himself that it doesn’t, that this is temporary.

“The closest options are probably Thai or Greek.”

Dopheld squints in thought and adjusts the strap of his messenger bag over his shoulder. “I’d go for Thai, but have learned from experience that guys don’t always appreciate chili-pepper-flavoured blowjobs.”

“Greek, then?” Ben asks, forcibly dragging his thoughts away from Dopheld’s mouth.

But when the two of them are seated at a two-person table in the window of the Greek place, all Ben can do is stare at Dopheld’s lips. The Hungarian student is working his tongue around one in a series of olives that came with their entrees, delicately plucking the cleaned pits out of his mouth and placing them on the edge of his dish.

Ben thinks he is going to die from arousal before they make it to the hotel.

“About the recording,” Dopheld begins after the waitress clears away their dishes and vanishes from view.

“Yes?”

“You can show it to anyone you’d like, but only in person. Don’t send copies or upload it anywhere. No Pornhub, no Dropbox, nothing. Got it?”

Ben nods. “Of course.”

“Good. My parents know I’m gay, but they don’t need to see it. And my grandmother’s biggest worry is that I’ll meet some foreign girl and never come home again.” He frowns. “Plus, Orban’s a douche about gay rights and the fewer people at home who know about my orientation, the better.”

Ben says, “I’m sorry. But yeah, your prime minister is a jerk.” Ben may not pay super close attention to Central European politics, but he is aware of Orban’s harsh stance on refugees and other vulnerable populations. That and the nonsense he spouts about George Soros.

“It’s all right. We’re still in the EU for the moment, so I have freedom of movement and employment. Maybe I’ll even end up in Ireland. Worse things could happen, I’m sure.”

Brow furrowing at the oblique mention of Hux, Ben takes a long sip of his soda and leans back in his chair. He thinks of the lock-screen on Dopheld’s phone, a picture of him sitting in the redhead’s lap.

“Hey,” Dopheld says gently. “Where are you?”

“Huh? Oh, I dunno. Just a bit nervous, I guess.”

“Is it about my boyfriend?”

“Yeah,” Ben admits. “It’s weird.”

Dopheld’s nose wrinkles and he crosses his arms over his chest defensively. “Look, I get it isn’t typical.”

“I didn’t mean to call your relationship weird. The situation feels weird to me.” He watches Dopheld relax at that, his expression become forgiving. “I don’t have enough experience to be confident in this. I know I’m an awkward nerd.”

Smiling expansively, Dopheld rises from his seat and goes to stand behind Ben’s chair. He wraps his arms around the taller boy’s neck, leaning in to speak into his ear. “I like it. Now, how bout we get out of here? I’m dying for a smoke and your dick.”

Lighting his cigarette outside, Dopheld takes hold of Ben’s hand and leads him in the direction of the hotel. As anxious as Ben is to get him alone and naked, Dopheld seems unrushed. He walks lazily, circling Ben, dancing sporadically to the music spilling out of the bars they pass.

“This is one of my favourite bookshops,” Dopheld exclaims, pulling Ben into the alcove by the locked door. Ben peers in and sees stacks of unsorted books piled on every surface. “My first time in, I got stuck in the reference section for two hours.” He turns around, a happy little smile on his face, and Ben just _has_ to kiss him.

Stepping in close, Ben backs Dopheld against the glass display window. “We can come by tomorrow when they’re open,” he suggests.

Dopheld throws his arms around Ben’s neck, gets on tiptoes, and kisses him.

Ben imagines it’s a real date, that they’re meandering around after dinner, walking aimlessly just to spend time together. Dopheld parts his lips and Ben doesn’t hesitate to take the opportunity to slide the tip of his tongue inside. With the spring air playing outside, Dopheld’s mouth is even hotter and more welcoming than he’d remembered.

Splaying a hand over Ben’s right pectoral, squeezing the muscle, Dopheld drops it to hook a finger in one of his belt-loops. Ben breathes into his mouth, unwilling to remove his lips from Dopheld’s. Fingers brush against the bulge at the front of his jeans and then grasp at it. Ben moans.

“Can’t wait to hear more of that,” Dopheld whispers.

“Take me to the hotel,” Ben answers.

Leaving the storefront, their steps quicken.

 

 

Ben hangs back while Dopheld checks in. It isn’t that he is embarrassed about it, but Dopheld was the one who made the reservation and they’re not even dating and—

Fine. So he’s a bit embarrassed. Hands shoved deep in his jeans pockets, he glances over at Dopheld, leaning over the desk on tiptoes. The height difference between them makes Ben inclined to an odd fondness.

A middle-aged woman with improbably brilliant golden hair enters from a back door and steps up to the desk. Recognising Dopheld, she breaks into a wide grin. “Sweetness, where _have_ you been?” she asks, reaching out to pat Dopheld’s hand.

“Studying too much,” Dopheld answers and hands over his passport for registration.

“Glad to have you back, love. Where is that pretty redhead?” She peers around, sees only Ben looming in the background. “Oh. Did you break up?”

“Nope.” Pointing a thumb over his shoulder, he says, “This is my friend Ben. Armitage is away for the weekend—but I have his blessing.”

Shaking her head, she declares, “Well, I’m not going to say I understand. But you boys have fun tonight. I know the sign says check out is between 5 and 11, but you can check out anytime.” She winks at Ben.

Ben wants the floor to eat him.

Dopheld signs the paperwork with a cheery “Thanks!” and heads down the hallway, swinging the key fob in the air. “Oh-oh-six,” he sings out. “Ground floor. So you can escape out the window when you’re done.”

Ben trails him, protesting, “I’m not—I doubt I’ll want to escape.”

Turning around and continuing his walk backwards, Dopheld says, “I saw the way you nearly died of embarrassment back there.” Frowning suddenly, he asks, “Are you not out?”

“I’m out. Enough. I just.” He just needs a moment to pull himself together. “Am not used to hookups in hotels.” Or having older women wink at him because he’s about to get laid.

“Aw, you _are_ nervous.” He darts back to kiss Ben but can only reach his chin. “That’s cute. But here we are.”

Dopheld turns the key in the lock, flips on the light, and kicks off his shoes. Ben looks at them: oxfords. Dopheld wears dress shoes with jeans and a collared shirt minus tie, and somehow he makes it work. Bending down, Ben unlaces his own trainers and drops them beside Dopheld’s oxfords, which they dwarf. Still on the floor, he looks up.

Dopheld is perched on the side of the mattress, swinging his legs, tapping his small feet on the carpet. Ben shuffles over and pulls Dopheld’s socks off, lightly massages his bare feet. _So delicate, almost like a dancer_ _’s_ , Ben thinks, and has to remind himself that Dopheld Mitaka isn’t the sweet, vulnerable thing he appears. The young man came here to be fucked by someone who isn’t his boyfriend, and to record it.

Smiling enigmatically, Dopheld sticks his arms out and gradually leans back, eventually falling to the mattress. It’s the most natural thing for Ben to rise then, to straddle Dopheld on the bed, and to lean down and finally kiss him in private. Unlike at the party, no one is hanging around the door. Hux couldn’t possibly come bursting back in, looking to punch Ben in turn. They have _hours_ if they want to take that kind of time.

“Wait,” Dopheld interjects.

Ben stops everything instantly, breaking off the kiss, removing his hands from Dopheld’s upper arms, and swinging a leg back so that he is no longer pinning the other boy to the bed. “Sure. What is it?”

“I need to set up the camera,” Dopheld explains, pushing himself upright and combing fingers through his tousled hair.

Ben shifts to lie back against the pillows and watches while Dopheld reaches into his messenger bag to pull out a digital camera and small tripod. Ben stares at his ass while he fusses with the equipment, syncs the video feed with his phone and checks the framing.

“My only concern is the sound,” Dopheld admits. “But I did a test run by myself last night, and it caught everything at a regular conversation level.”

“What did you record?” Ben asks.

“What do you think?” Dopheld teases before his voice takes on a serious tone. “Are you good with this? The recording?”

Ben nods. “Yes.”

“Okay. Let’s roll. We’re live in three. Two. One.” He presses the record button and returns to the bed.

Ben opens his arms and they promptly resume kissing. Dopheld holds onto him by the neck of his t-shirt, and rather than let him pull it out of shape, Ben removes it.

“Oh, hell,” Dopheld whispers. “You’re built.” He traces admiring touches across Ben’s pectorals, over his deltoids, down his biceps.

“I work out when I’m stressed,” Ben explains.

“Christ, you must be anxious all the time.” With that assessment, Dopheld rolls over and suggests, “Get back on top me.”

On all fours, Ben looms over him and slowly unbuttons his shirt, pulls it off. The undershirt follows. He tosses them over the far side of the bed. Then he looks down at Dopheld’s bare chest. “Fuck, you’re so pretty,” he murmurs, their lips brushing.

“Hold me down,” Dopheld dares him. “And take what you want.” He wriggles his hands above his head. Taking hold of both Dopheld’s wrists in a single hand, Ben brings one knee between the supine boy’s legs and presses it against his groin. “Yes,” Dopheld hisses, pushing back. “My safe word is maracas,” he adds.

“Maracas. Got it.” Ben nods like he has done things that required safe words before.

Licking his lips, Dopheld demands, “Get your dick out. I want to see it again.”

Ben shifts to keep Dopheld held down and still have a hand free. He undoes the button, unzips, and reaches in. Shuffling his jeans lower on his hips, he pulls his hardening cock out.

“Fuck,” Dopheld groans. “It’s even bigger than I remembered.” He tilts his pelvis, grinding the tent of his pants over Ben’s knee. “I want to suck it.” His voice pitches higher into something resembling a bratty whine. “Let me, _please_ let me suck your cock—” Grinning, Ben releases his hold around Dopheld’s wrists and pulls his jeans and boxers off entirely. They join the growing pile of clothes on the floor. Dopheld takes the opportunity to turn one hundred eighty degrees and scoot down so that his head dangles over the edge of the bed. “If you stand by the end here, you can fuck my throat,” he suggests.

Once Ben is in position and angling in, he realises this isn’t a blowjob. This is hardly even oral sex. It’s penetration of the mouth and oesophagus. He goes for three deep plunges before pulling out entirely, concerned about Dopheld’s oxygen supply. He drops his head to his chest and checks on him. “You okay?”

Dopheld coughs twice and nods. “Yeah. Keep going.”

Ben keeps going, watching Dopheld’s chest heave between thrusts, feeling his body give way for him. When he stands back, just minutes later, the both of them are panting. With a hand on the back of Dopheld’s neck, he helps him sit up.

“Fuck me now?” Dopheld asks, face hopeful, lips and chin wet with spittle.

“Of course,” Ben promises and Dopheld hops off the bed and goes for his bag, pulls out a bottle of lube and a pack of wipes. Because the topic has gone unspoken this far, Ben offers, “I brought condoms if you want me—”

“Been with anyone since me?”

“Um, no.” He feels foolish admitting this, feels like he ought to have hooked up with another guy by now, but he hasn’t. He hasn’t wanted to; since the party, this is all he has wanted.

At least Dopheld doesn’t seem to pity him. Instead, he opens the bottle cap and pours some into his hand.

“Let me,” Ben insists. “Please.”

“Fine.” Dopheld comes back to the bed, hands Ben the bottle, and lies down on his stomach. “I’ll need more prep this time,” he says, spreading his cheeks with both hands. “Seeing as how—”

“Yes,” Ben interrupts. _Seeing as how Hux hasn_ _’t already fucked you._ He doesn’t want to hear that name aloud. Instead he wants to focus on being the one to get Dopheld ready. He kneels between the other boy’s legs and fuck, the lighting in here is so much better than it had been in that dim bedroom. Dopheld’s hole is so pink, so inviting. Ben wets an index finger and draws in a deep breath through clenched teeth, reaches out and— “You’re so warm,” he whispers, running the pad of his finger around the pucker.

“Mm, put it in me,” Dopheld murmurs softly.

Working slick over the entrance, Ben slowly presses his fingertip in. Heat. Fluttering muscles. Then give. Someone gasps, and Ben doesn’t know which of them made the noise. He pushes, and then his whole finger is inside. He holds it there for a long moment, just savouring the time he is able to take. But Dopheld shifts backward, silently asking for more, so Ben pulls the finger out halfway before sinking it in once again.

“That’s it, Ben,” Dopheld encourages. “Give me another. Please.” He is using the same high pitch as when he’d asked Ben to use his mouth. It goes straight to the instinctual portion of Ben’s brain, the part that governs his animal drives.

_Take. Fuck. Have. Keep._

Swallowing and breathing harshly through his nostrils, Ben brings his hand back until only the tip is left inside, drizzles more lube onto his hand, and moves forward with two fingers.

“Aaaah,” Dopheld whines. “Fuck, your fingers are wide.”

Smiling smugly, Ben reflects that it isn’t just his dick that’s larger than Armitage Hux’s. “This okay?” he asks.

“Yeah, yeah, it’s good.” Dopheld breathes in deeply a few times. “Finger-fuck me, Ben.”

That’s the only go-ahead he needs. He saws his hand back and forth, listening to Dopheld’s tiny gasps, watching him back his ass up around his digits. “God, your ass,” he whispers. “I’ve missed it, babe.” He bites down on his lower lip. Who is he to use terms of endearment with Dopheld? This is just sex, plain and simple. Sex with someone else’s boyfriend.

“Missed your dick. Not much longer, now, then you can split me open with it.”

He supposes that means the “babe” wasn’t the unforgivable misstep he feared. But it does suggest that Dopheld is looking for rougher dirty talk from him. “Is that what you want?” he teases. “You want me to pound you?”

“Yes!” Dopheld nearly shouts. “Pound my arse wide open!”

“I will,” Ben swears. “Real soon.” He spreads his fingers apart and speeds up his hand, stretching the passage as it pumps.

Dopheld cranes his neck to look back at him, his jaw hanging loose. “I’m good. Lie back,” he instructs. “I want to start by riding you.”

In a daze, Ben gets on his back and rests his head on a pillow. As Dopheld climbs up and eases down onto him, Ben watches his face. This already feels far more intimate than their first encounter. With this position and the better lighting, he can see Dopheld’s expressions as well as feel and hear him.

Dopheld closes his eyes, breathes slowly, and bites down on his lower lip in concentration. Bracing his palms against Ben’s chest, he begins rocking forward and back, slowly working his way closer to taking Ben all the way in. “Oh,” he says when he hits bottom. Just a quiet _oh_ , but it expresses plenty. Then he whispers, “Ben,” and Ben’s pulse flutters at the sound of his name.

Ben wants to say something in response, but he’s lost in sensation and the look in Dopheld’s wide eyes. He settles for murmuring, “God. Fuck. Yes.”

Rolling his hips once to test the angle, Dopheld grins victoriously. “I admit, I’m rather proud of myself.” He continues, “But I _have_ been practising for you.”

“What? How?”

“I didn’t want to be too sore to enjoy it, so I’ve been playing with a series of toys since you agreed to this date. Getting ready to fuck myself with your long, thick cock. Yesterday I wore a plug for five hours. The largest one I have.” He flashes another smile as he bounces, says, “Go on. Call me a slut.”

Brow wrinkling, Ben almost protests before he realises Dopheld isn’t daring him—he’s _asking_ him. “You slut,” he says in a voice so low he sounds hoarse. And the resulting joy on Dopheld’s face is enough to make Ben set aside all reservations about insulting the young man he’s finally fucking again.

“I know what I am,” Dopheld whispers. “And I imagine I’d make a good whore.” He tilts his head to the side and asks, “What do you think? Would you pay for this?”

Meaning to say that surely he’d never pay for sex at all, instead Ben groans, “God, yes.”

“How much do you think my arse is worth?”

 _My sanity. My dignity. Anything you_ _’d care to ask._ “At least two hundred,” he decides aloud.

“Euros, pounds sterling, or dollars?”

“Euros.” He says it without reflection, instantly choosing the currency with the highest market value.

“Oh, Ben, you’re so sweet. Too sweet for someone with a cock like this.” Rising and falling, he smiles kindly. “Did you hurt your first?”

Ben nods. “I didn’t mean to.”

“I’m sure you didn’t. Don’t worry, you needn’t be so gentle with me. Hux certainly isn’t.”

“What does he do to you?” Does he truly want to know? _No matter: I_ _’m the one inside Dopheld right now. He’s mine until I finish._

With a smirk, Dopheld answers him cryptically. “Guess.”

Reviewing activities he has only seen in porn and keeping in mind that Hux had been up for role-playing an assault, Ben asks about a choice few that seem likely. “He ties you up? Spanks you? Treats you like a sex doll?” He punctuates each verb with an upward tilt of his hips.

“Oh, so you’re not as sheltered as I thought. Yes to all of the above. He enjoys treating me like he owns me.”

“And you like that?” Ben asks quizzically.

“I love it. That’s the sort of boy I am, Ben.”

“A dirty bitch?”

Dopheld moans. “Fuck, yes, keep that up.” He takes one of Ben’s large hands in his and places it on his chest. “Play with my nipples.” He sucks in a hissing breath when Ben follows his request, raises his other hand as well and gives each nub a flick. “I’ve learned that I like a bit of pain.” Ben pinches and twists. With a deep sigh, Dopheld admits, “More than a bit, really. Your hands are so big. I bet you could easily choke me with just one.”

Ben reaches one hand up to Dopheld’s throat and closes his fingers. He doesn’t tighten it into a grip, only lets it rest teasingly around the windpipe.

“Oh, God, please, Ben.” This isn’t the fake whine from before: it’s sincere desperation.

“Please what?” For some reason, Ben wants to hear him ask it directly—to listen to him beg, even.

“Choke me while you fuck me. Take my breath away.”

Ben would love to take Dopheld’s breath away in the romantic, metaphorical sense. But he’ll do this instead, since that’s what’s being asked of him. He squeezes his hand and witnesses Dopheld’s subtle ecstasy. The parted lips, the eyes rolled back before the lids fall shut. Dopheld mouths the word “Harder” followed by “Yes.” Ben fucks into him faster. Dopheld goes limp in surrender. Slightly concerned, Ben removes his hand.

“Thank you,” Dopheld whispers hoarsely. “I want you to do that to me while I come. But that’s not going to be for a bit. As long as you can hold out, so can I.”

Ben nods in agreement. “I want to make this last tonight.”

“Good. I think I need a change of position, though. Want me from behind?”

“I want you any way I can have you.” It slips out before he can filter it.

Dopheld makes a half-pitying, half-sarcastic noise. “Ben. You’re too nice for me.” He dismounts carefully but still winces at the burn from withdrawal. Then he positions himself on the mattress, spreading his cheeks apart with his hands as he waits for Ben to penetrate him again.

While Ben applies more lubricant, he gazes at Dopheld’s ass. He wishes this weren’t an every-now-and-then sort of thing, but he reminds himself to be grateful for what he’s offered. Then he shuffles between Dopheld’s legs and enters again, perhaps more swiftly than is advisable. But the boy arches his back and takes it beautifully. Ben holds onto his waist and pummels him. He loses track of time, lets go of every single worry he has ever had. This is the state he strives for in meditation—and what he cannot achieve through yoga and mindfulness exercises comes so easily with Dopheld under him.

“I could get used to this, Dopheld. Fuck you every day of my life.”

Now that he’s doing little but receiving, Dopheld’s words lose all restraint. “You need a real size queen to take this dick, Ben. Someone like me who loves being split open. You’re so fucking huge. Go on, give it me. Wreck me if you have to.” He gasps as Ben hits what must be a sweet spot. “God, yes! Right fucking there!” he yells, delivering on his threat to scream.

Reaching out to grab him by the shoulders, Ben growls, “You like it hard and deep, don’t you?”

“Yes, _sir!_ ”

Ben has never been called “sir” in his life. He’s not sure if he’d like anyone else to do it, but when Dopheld says it, he knows it means that the boy wants Ben to enjoy him. To use him, even. “How hard can you take it?”

“I can take anything you give me. I just want to make it good for you.”

“Oh, Dopheld. You’re already so fucking good for me.”

Moaning wildly, Dopheld cries out, “Thank you, sir, thank you so bloody much.”

Remembering a question that hadn’t been fully answered, Ben brings it up. “Yesterday. When you tested the camera. What did you do?”

Between grunts, Dopheld struggles to answer. “I’d had the plug in me for so long, I was so hard. I took it out and—and got my biggest dildo—”

“How big?” Ben demands. “How many inches did you need to shove inside your thirsty fucking hole?”

“About nine? I think. Oh fuck, sir—fuck me—I rode it and wanked.”

Ben growls, “You are positively _depraved._ ”

“I know, sir!” Dopheld agrees, his voice straining. “God, I want to come with you pounding my arse just like this.”

Lifting a hand to brush stray hair out of his mouth, Ben asks, “Now?”

“If I may, sir.”

Ben blinks. Does Hux make Dopheld defer his orgasms based on permission? “And if I say no?” he asks, purely out of curiosity. There’s no way he can postpone his own climax much longer. Not with Dopheld fucking writhing against him.

“Then I’ll wait.”

“Don’t wait.”

Dopheld nods and moves his right hand between his legs. “Not going to take much. And please—”

Ben doesn’t wait for him to finish his sentence, he just wraps his fingers around Dopheld’s throat and tightens them. Dopheld lets out a fierce wail, a sound of pure need. Then he’s bucking into his hand and back against Ben, his asshole clenching and relaxing as he shoots onto the bedsheets. When Ben lets go of his neck, Dopheld wheezes for breath and pants, “Oh, fuck, oh holy Mother of God.” Noticing that Ben has mostly stilled, he says, “You can keep fucking me. But I may just lie here.” He falls forward, taking Ben with him.

Propping himself up by planting his palms flat on either side of Dopheld’s head, Ben dips into him. It’s a bit like doing push-ups, but with a filthy pleasure to reward him on each down-stroke. “I’d be happy to never fuck anyone else,” he declares, placing soft kisses on the back of Dopheld’s neck. “Your body is heaven.”

“Th-thanks,” Dopheld stammers.

“I’m close, now,” he warns. “Where do you want it tonight?”

“My mouth. Want to taste it. Plus it’ll look good on camera.”

Ben has forgotten they were recording this. Has he said anything overtly embarrassing tonight? Probably. How obvious has he made it that he wants to be Dopheld’s boyfriend instead of an occasional fuck on the sidelines of his relationship? That he’d like to get to the point where he can tell Dopheld he loves him and mean it?

_Hux is going to watch this._

And surely Hux will figure it out. But right now, Ben can’t find the focus to care. With regret, he pulls out and reaches to the bedstand for a wipe. After giving himself a quick clean off, he notices that Dopheld has left the bed, grabbed the camera, and is bringing it back.

“Take it,” the boy instructs. “Get a good POV shot.” He kneels by the edge of the mattress.

Nodding, Ben holds the camera in one hand and aims the lens downward. Dopheld swallows his cock greedily and suckles at it. “Look at you, such a dirty whore,” Ben gasps. Dopheld nods. “You want my come, babe?” Dopheld makes a moaning hum around him, and Ben can feel the vibration in his balls. “Oh, shit. Dopheld. Now.”

Dopheld sits back a bit, shuts his eyes, and opens his lips. Ben’s hand takes over where he’d left off and with a deep moan, he shoots streams into Dopheld’s mouth, spurting over his lips, dribbling down his chin. Dopheld holds out his tongue to display a pool of come before promptly sucking it back and swallowing. Then his tongue reappears to dart over his lips, he lifts a hand to his filthy face to gather the rest, and licks his fingers one at a time, savouring Ben’s release.

Ben stops the recording and lets the camera fall to the mattress. “Oh, God, Dopheld. I don’t think I’ve ever come so much in my whole life.”

With a chuckle, the other boy says, “I’m sure it was quite a show. I’m fucking drenched.” He stands and stretches, then vanishes into the toilet for a few minutes. When he pops out, he dashes to the pile of clothing and rummages through it. “Smoke, I need to smoke _now_.”

Exhausted, Ben watches as Dopheld extracts a cigarette and his lighter from his jacket and heads to the window. “Can you do that in here?”

Shrugging, Dopheld says, “Technically no,” then shoves the window open with his shoulder and partially leans out of it.

Ben comes to stand beside him, not wanting to be as far away as the bed. “So, Hux is going to watch all that.”

“Yep. Probably wank to it. Maybe fuck me while it’s playing.” He smiles dreamily. “He’ll tell me what a dirty little bitch I am. The way I couldn’t go a weekend without finding someone well-hung to fuck me senseless.”

But that isn’t what happened; Hux had been in on it from the beginning. About that, though. Brow wrinkling, Ben asks, “Did he order you to let me have you?”

“He did not,” Dopheld says firmly. “He asked politely if I’d be interested. He’s not a monster, Ben.” Turning and glancing at Ben’s face, he continues. “I don’t belong to him like that. We discuss everything beforehand. I have a safe word, and he always gives aftercare.”

“What does that mean?”

“Usually cuddling and saying nice things. To remind us that I’m not a piece of trash and he’s not a bastard. Those are just roles we often play.”

“Would you want me to play a bastard for you?”

“Oh, Ben, I don’t think you could manage much worse than what you’ve been doing.” He smiles, reaches over and gives Ben’s hand a quick squeeze. “I love it when you call me names, though.”

“Do you want to stay overnight?” Ben asks, rubbing Dopheld’s lower back.

“Here? No, thanks. I think I’ll take a quick shower, though.” He tosses the cigarette butt out the window, fans the air a bit, and closes the glass.

“Can I—um. Join you?” Ben stammers.

“Sure.” Dopheld sorts their clothes into two piles and they each carry a small stack to the bathroom.

The bathtub is cramped with the two of them in it, so Ben lets Dopheld stand closer to the showerhead and soaps up a washcloth. He lathers up Dopheld’s body: shoulders, back, chest. Arms, groin, ass. Legs. He kneels down in the tub and scrubs Dopheld’s feet, admiring their graceful shape, the high arches, the round, pink toes. He is suddenly compelled to kiss them, so he does, one brief smack to the top of each foot. Looking up, he catches the look on Dopheld’s face: puzzled and amused.

Out of the shower, Ben wraps a towel around his waist and stands around while Dopheld rubs himself down with his own towel, combs his hair, and puts his clothes back on. Something deep in Ben’s stomach aches. He steps behind the shorter boy, puts his arms around his hips, and whispers, “I wish you’d stay.”

“You don’t have to, you know,” Dopheld answers. “We can check out together.”

But Ben can’t stand the thought of parting ways in the lobby, like businessmen leaving a conference.

“Thanks, though,” Dopheld says, landing a kiss to Ben’s jaw. “For a fantastic fuck. A fantastic night in general.” He steps out of Ben’s embrace, strides to the front door, and turns the lock.

“You’re welcome.” Then, all of a sudden, he blurts out, “Can we do it again?”

“Probably. I’ll let you know what Armitage thinks of the video.” He winks, waves, and opens the door.

“Good night, Dopheld.”

“You too, Ben.”

Ben tumbles into bed, on top of the rumpled sheets, but doesn’t fall asleep for over an hour.


End file.
